


The Crystalcracker

by WandersUnderStarlight



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, The Nutcracker Ballet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 15:05:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13102746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandersUnderStarlight/pseuds/WandersUnderStarlight
Summary: It's the eve of the Festival of Primus. A time of magic and wonder.





	The Crystalcracker

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is what happenes when I go to see the Nutcracker ballet and have Transformers on the brain. I'm weird, okay? But, um, enjoy?

It was snowing on the eve of the Festival of Primus. At any other time of the vorn the precipitation would have been acidic rain that drove everybot to take shelter. But now in the cold of winter, it froze to a near benign state. Beautiful crystalline flakes that swirled and glittered like dancers dressed in crystal costumes.

Jazz drifted in and out of a recharge flux where he had joined the graceful snowflakes in their gambol. He and his brother, Ricochet, had already been told many times that night to calm down, but they were just so excited about the annual Festival party! Finally Carrier and Sire had closed the big living room doors and made them wait in the entrance hall. Jazz had pulled a chair in front of the doors, graciously allowing Ricochet to squeeze into it with him. Here they anxiously sat, waiting for the first moment they would be welcome back into the living room.

They sat there for so long trying to behave and not antagonize each other that they didn’t realize they were slipping into recharge. Jazz’s last conscious thoughts before dozing off was that if Ricochet hadn’t been being such a pit demon today, as usual, they might still be in the living room with its sweet smells of hot energon and gel treats, and from deep within the sparkling crystal tree, the dark perfumed breath of snow-covered crystal forests far away. Their creators had it brought in specially for they party; something about the chemical makeup of the green crystal trees made them the only ones to not lose their luster in the winter.

Amongst the dancing snow in Jazz’s recharge flux he saw Godsire Wheeljack coming towards him, so strange and mysterious-looking with his blast mask and flashing helm fins. Jazz knew how kind he was in spite of the way he looked. Jazz could tell by the twinkle in his optics when he spoke and the gentle way he held Jazz’s servo when they walked together. But Jazz loved him most of all because everything he touched seemed to awaken and come to life.

Every time he came to repair something mechanical in Sire’s collection of kick knacks, he would bring Jazz and Ricochet a small gift. Out of his deep subspace pockets, as if by magic, would appear a tiny doll that danced in the palm of his servo, or a holographic petro-rabbit and turbo-fox that chased each other in a never ending circle. His gifts on the Festival of Primus were always the most special and the ones that Jazz treasured deepest in his spark.

Jazz woke suddenly by some sixth sense telling him that it was nearly time for the guests to arrive. He carefully slid off the chair without waking Ricochet and peeked through the keyhole of the living room door. Excitement lashed through him. Sire was putting the final touches and ornaments on the crystal tree. His happy little squeal woke Ricochet who was up out of the chair like a shot, shoving Jazz out of the way to get his own peep through the keyhole. Jazz fought back for another look. They pushed and twisted, pulling at audial horns. And at that moment the doors open just wide enough for Carrier and Sire to enter the hall.

Uh oh. Ricochet had already been in trouble more than once today and Jazz knew better. He was older, almost to his final upgrade. Luckily for Jazz and Ricochet, just as Sire’s frowning visage opened to scold them, the first guests arrived. Grinning, Ricochet streaked away to greet his friends.

Jazz felt giddy and nearly buoyant as his favorite party of the vorn began. It was better even than his creation-day! How dashing the mechs were, how elegant the femmes looked. Flowing capes and draped jewels shimmered and sparkled in the warm lamp light. More and more guests arrived. Jazz and Ricochet’s friends twirled to show off their Festival finishes. Jazz puffed out his plating proudly to display his own newly painted stripes. Which, of course, meant Ricochet had to do it too.

Before that could devolve into another round of pushing, the doors to the living room opened and they all tumbled inside. At first the room was only lit by the gently glowing crystal tree. Golden orb lights were placed strategically amongst the slightly opaque green spindling branches while glittering ornaments and tinsel hung off every spire. It was a pool of warmth in the pale blue moonlight reflecting off the newly fallen snow outside the great windows. The younglings stood in awed silence for a moment, taking in the vast tree with its bounty of presents. Then in a rush of delirious animation they swarmed around it, chattering excitedly, but not touching for fear of reprimand. 

Sire clapped his hands and the rest of the room lit up as the lights were turned on. He called the younglings into an ordered circle at the base of the tree. It was time for the games to begin! Jazz had been looking forward to this all vorn. There would be presents and dancing and unexpected events, especially when Godsire Wheeljack arrived.

First they played Soldiers, marching about the room in (mostly) straight lines. Then they played Pairs, where they danced around in simplified versions of dances that Jazz knew the adults would do later. He’d be dancing with the adults next year after his final upgrades!

Of course, Ricochet had to try and ruin it by tugging on Jazz’s audial horn as they passed each other. He was such a pest! At least Carrier saw and shook a warning digit at him.

The adults had made a long line of arches, servos held high overhead for the younglings to laughingly dance under, when all of a sudden Jazz and Ricochet’s Grand-creators and more cousins arrived. The games came to a halt while the newcomers warmed themselves and greeted everyone with cold cheek kisses. 

Carrier gathered the younglings to pass out the warm gel-trets. Small flutes of high-grade were passed out to the adults for a toast. Grand-sire and Grand-carrier were given the seats of honor in the middle of the room and from all around them a steady stream of presents flowed. 

Ricochet received a handsome sash and a drum which he immediately put on and began to play obnoxiously loudly. Jazz was gifted a flowing cape and a pair of ornate stabilizers. He fit them happily to his pedes and danced delightedly for his friends until Ricochet “accidentally” bumped into him. Grand-sire snuck Jazz a sip of high-grade since he was “nearly a grown mech”. He wasn’t sure he liked the taste of it, but it made a warm flush run through him. He found himself rushing about the room with the other younglings with the giddy joy that came from celebrating the Festival of Primus.

Suddenly the great clock in the room began to chime. Oddly loud, it cut through the hubbub of noise, startling them silent. Was that a shadow growing from the doorway? The lights in the room shivered and the younglings sought the comfort of their creators’ sides. Jazz peered from behind his carrier as out of the shadows stepped a mech in a long black cape. Three large boxes appeared behind him. 

The caped mech came slowly closer stopping a mere few feet away. The cape was swept back and off and there stood Godsire Wheeljack helm fins flashing merrily! Jazz flew into his arms and was hugged and spun around. Sighs of relief came from younglings and adults alike.

Wheeljack greeted his hosts and apologized for his lateness. “I was waiting for my nephew. I had hoped to bring him to your splendid party, but he was… delayed.”

Jazz could somehow sense that this saddened and pained Godsire a great deal more than he was letting on and offered him a hug. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

Godsire gave Jazz a curiously penetrating look and suddenly his helmfins flashed gold which Jazz knew meant he was smiling. “Of course, you’re right. I think the two of you will get along wonderfully when he arrives.”

Then in that delightful eccentric way of his, he seemed to become distracted by the great clock, walking to it shaking his head in dismay. “Always off by a few kliks this one,” he murmured to himself, “not a breem past…” With a delicate, precise touch of his servo, it was set right. Jazz and the other younglings followed him around the room as he greeted everybot in his quaint, old-fashioned way.

Ricochet, who wanted Godsire’s attention for himself, ran up and pulled on one of his winglets so hard that he startled Wheeljack. The mech turned and made a motion as if he were about to cast a spell on the mechling. Jazz couldn’t help but giggle at the look on his annoying brother’s face as he darted back across the room in a panic.

All the younglings began clamoring for magic tricks. Wheeljack’s helmfins flashed merrily as he produced steelsilk scarves that changed color seemingly out of nowhere. Then with a flourish two of the large boxes he brought with him moved forward without assistance. The boxes opened and he brought out a pair of life-sized dolls. A brightly colored Iaconian mech and femme. Godsire grew serious; placing a servo on each doll’s back, he brought them to “life”. 

Up stood the dolls, optics brights, as if just woken from recharge. They danced gracefully, whirling about in pirouettes and arabesques, miming throwing kisses. Wheeljack cavorted gleefully behind them, giving them directions with a flash of a helmfin, spinning them faster or making them bow low. Then as suddenly as they had started, they spun themselves back into their boxes. Everybot clapped enthusiastically.

A low rumbling, like distant thunder sent prickles along plating as the third box moved forward. Out of it stepped a life-sized Kaonite toy soldier. He marched steadily into the room, then jumped high in the air! He turned smartly to the right and left, arms held out as if shooting. Into the air he jumped again. He was under the mastery of his creator as Wheeljack whirled him around and marched him up and back, spun him in dizzying circles and then brought him to a stop in a perfect salute. More applause filled the room. How spellbinding the show had been.

As Jazz’s Carrier distracted the younglings with more treats, Godsire Wheeljack moved stealthily away and slowly drew from his subspace the most remarkable object. It was a figure, a Praxian soldier from the looks of him. He had mighty head and a powerful jaw. His optics were a bright and serious blue. He held a shining silver sword and was made of the most beautiful white, black and red crystal. Even his distinguished chevron was made of the glittering material.

Godsire turned and, holding the doll high overhelm, called the younglings to him. No one could imagine what it was, yet they all yearned to hold it. Jazz found himself intrigued by the power of the little mech. He was not what you would call handsome, but he touched Jazz’s spark in a way he couldn’t explain. 

From Godsire’s subspace, a basket of crystal-berries appeared. With a wink of an optic and a nearly invisible sleight of servo, one of the crystal-berries appeared in his digits and from there into the doll’s open mouth. With a quick pull on the doll’s cape the strong jaw closed and a sharp CRACK! was heard. Out of the doll’s jaw came the heart of the crystal-berry, which Godsire held up for all to see.

“Only crystal can crack crystal,” he chortled at their astonished cries. He cracked a few more, handing out the sweet hearts to waiting, eager little servos.

With a warm field, Godsire presented the doll to Jazz. Jazz hugged the Crystalcracker to his chestplates looking up at Godsire with an awestruck visor. “For me?”

“I know you’ll take good care of him.” Wheeljack said, fins flashing gold.

Fuming with jealousy, Ricochet bolted out of the group and rushed Jazz, tearing the Crystalcracker out of his servos. He raised the doll high over helm and threw it to the floor, breaking the poor doll’s jaw hinge. A moment of horrified silence passed through the room. As Ricochet was about to jump on the broken figure, Jazz unfroze and, rushing forward, shoved his brother as hard as he could. 

Jaz knelt down and tearfully gathered the doll in his arms. He couldn’t name why he was so upset. His friends gathered around him crooning in sympathy as he cradled the Crystalcracker to his chestplates. Carrier took Ricochet aside and sternly scolded him in the corner of the room, taking away his drum. 

Godsire Wheeljack knelt down next to Jazz, taking out a soft polishing cloth. He tied it as a sling around the Crystalcracker’s broken jaw, reassuring Jazz that the doll could be mended. He then produced a tiny silver berth for the Crystalcracker to sleep in. Jazz thanked him with a long spark-felt hug. 

Then Sire called for the dancing to begin. The adults lined up, standing side-by-side, as the music began. They bowed and turned, dancing graceful, intricate steps. There were serious dances and more silly playful romps. Jazz watched the swishing fabrics and sparkling gems, and started to feel better as he sat by his Crystalcracker’s bedside carefully stroking the little helm. 

He still wasn’t ready to forgive Ricochet though, as his brother slunk over under the glaring optics of Carrier to apologize. Jazz just flashed his visor at him until he crept away again. Jazz might forgive him tomorrow… maybe.

After several more dances, Grand-sire yawned, initiating a sweep of yawns through the room. Jazz felt tired, but happy. This was the best party ever and he didn’t want it to end. He stood with Sire and Carrier and Ricochet as the cousins began to ready themselves so they could say their goodbyes. One by one, everybot took their leave. Jazz felt a chill come over the room as Godsire Wheeljack came towards him. With that same strange stare from earlier he wished Jazz a good night, his helmfins flashed oddly. When he left, the chill remained.

 

Later, after Carrier had tucked Jazz in, he thought of the Crystalcracker lying alone and wounded in the darkened livingroom. Once the light had been turned off in the hall, Jazz slipped out of his berth quietly, put on his new stabilizers and crept downstairs. The living room was dark and quiet, only the crystal tree still lit in the big room, casting long shadows everywhere. Jazz lifted the Crystalcracker from his berth and carried him to the couch, where he fell asleep the moment he lay down.

No sooner had Jazz’s systems settled into recharge than Godsire Wheeljack stepped out of the shadows. Moving like a silent, chill wind across the room, he found what he was looking for- Jazz and the Crystalcracker asleep in a beam of moonlight on the couch. He gently extricated the Crystalcracker out of Jazz’s arms and carried him into the full glow of the moon.

A tiny, glittering instrument appeared in Wheeljack’s servo and he set to work fixing the hinge where Ricochet had broken him. In a few moments the repairs were done and the Crystalcracker was powerful and whole again. Wheeljack put him back into Jazz’s sleeping embrace and kissed his Godcreation’s helm tenderly. Then, whirling through the room with a gesture that seemed to leave a spell in the air, he melted back into the shadows.

Was he having another recharge flux, or did a faint scratching from somewhere deep in the house wake him? Jazz looked about blearily and nearly laid his helm back down when another sound had him jerking upright. He slipped down from the couch and carried his Crystalcracker back to his little berth. Was it the flickering lights or did that shadow just move? Jazz’s plating prickled. Turning to the big clock, he jumped as the darkness seemed to split open. There, on top of the clock was Godsire Wheeljack!

“Alway off, this clock!” He yelled, the clock hands moved on their own spinning in dizzying circles until they reached the latest joor. The clock struck, booming loudly in the strange stillness of the room Wheeljack thrashed his black cape and kicked his pedes up. It looked so frightening that Jazz ran around the crystal tree to hide behind one of curtains on the window. As the racing of his fuel pump slowed down, he peeked out. 

The room was silent again, except for that faint scratching. Jazz’s plating shuddered as he left the safety of the curtain. Tiny clicking sounds rushed past him in the darkness. He spun quickly to see what had made them and nearly screamed as the shadow of an enormous glitch-mouse fell over him. Then he felt a cool vent on the back of his neck. Turning, he came face-to-face with a fat grey glitch-mouse bigger than he was! Glitch-mice were coming into the room from all sides. Jazz was quickly surrounded by a circle of spinning, squealing glitch-mice whose long tails whipped across the floor. 

The circle was closing in on him. At the first opening he could see, he dashed through and leapt onto the couch, where he buried his helm in his servos. 

When the pounding in his audials stopped, he realized that something strange was happening. He had to hop farther than he remembered to get off the couch. The floor seeming to be quite a long way down. As he walked over to the crystal tree, it appeared to be growing.

Growing fast it turned out! The tree rocketed up into the high, dark reaches of the room trailing blazing light. He looked about the room and gasped. All of his and Ricochet’s toys in the big cupboard had grown as big as he. The toy soldiers, the dolls…  
Jazz turned to run to the little berth to bring his Crystalcracker near him, only to find the little berth had grown to the size of his own. In it, life-sized and deep in recharge, lay the Crystalcracker. Glittering doorwings splayed out under him and shining sword at his side.

A glitch-mouse crept into the room. A toy sentry stepped out of the cupboard and fired a warning shot sending the glitch-mouse scurrying off. Suddenly more glitch-mice invaded in a squealing horde. Rank after rank of toy soldiers filed out of the cupboard and met the glitch-mice head on, but the giant creatures overpowered many of the toys, carrying them off. 

Jazz desperately tried to wake the Crystalcracker. “Please, we need your help.”

With a flash of inspiration he leaned forward and placed a kiss to the crest of the mech’s chevron. Then… clear, blue optics blazed to life. The Crystalcracker hurtled himself up off the berth and charged into battle. Now with an able commander, the toy soldiers rallied and the fight was evenly matched, surging back and forth across the room. 

At that moment a screech came out of the darkness that made Jazz’s fluids freeze in his lines. Out of the shadows emerged a giant glitch-mouse with seven helms each wearing a crown. All seven mouths howled, sporting gnashing yellowed teeth. All fourteen red optics glowed with rage. In long clawed servos he carried a great jagged sword.

A Glitch-mouse King.

The Crystalcracker faced it fearlessly. The King shrieked and attacked him harshly. They exchanged blow after blow. Although he warded off every strike, Jazz could see his Crystalcracker was beginning to tire. Suddenly a great swing by the Glitch-mouse King caused the Crystalcracker to fall down. Standing over him, the King pressed his advantage. Though the soldier held his sword and honor high, he could not last for much longer.

Jazz searched desperately for a way to help, but any encouragement he could think to yell was drowned out by the cheers of the swarming glitch-mice. This was just as helpless as he had felt when Ricochet had grabbed the Crystalcracker from him at the party. Suddenly furious, Jazz pulled one of his new stabilizers off his pede and threw it as hard as he could at the Glitch-mouse King. It flew straight as an arrow and scored a perfect hit on the King’s largest head. 

The King turned with a furious roar and advanced on Jazz with murderous intent. Jazz scrambled up onto the silver berth. The Glitch-mouse King raised his twisted sword to strike. The Crystalcracker, having been saved by Jazz’s brave act, found his pedes and raced over, delivering the fatal blow to the King before he could strike Jazz. Jazz fainted.

The Glitch-mouse King staggered backwards and fell to the floor, deactivated. His glitch-mice troops cowered in the dark corners of the room. The Crystalcracker retrieved the seventh and largest crown from his downed foe. He carefully carried it to where Jazz lay. A small doll from the cupboard approached him reverently and presented him Jazz’s stabilizer with a bow. He took it graciously in his other servo. Then he turned and beckoned the berth to follow him with an authoritative flick of his doorwings.

The great window in the living room opened to a world of moonbeams and starlight. Slowly the berth carrying Jazz, led by the Crystalcracker, disappeared into the night. A shining path swirled around them and led them into a dark, majestic crystal forest of towering green crystal spires. In the very heart of the forest, wreathing in mist, was a magic circle. The air around it felt poised in anticipation as if it had been long waiting. The berth holding Jazz settled gently in the center of the circle. The Crystalcracker paced the circle, the Glitch-mouse King’s crown held over his helm, voice intoning an ancient song.

“Three times circle the innocent spark,  
Holding the Seventh Crown won from the dark.”

On the third and last round, the crystals of the Crystalcracker’s form vibrated and then shattered into thousands of sparkling pieces. They melted away into a shimmering mist that settled over Jazz’s recharging form. Left standing in the Crystalcracker’s place was a Praxian mech who had long been held captive by binding magic. As a light snow began to fall, the mist encompassing Jazz dissipated away to reveal him grown past his final upgrades.

With the same gentleness Jazz had shown him when he’d held him in his arms, the mech placed a kiss upon his helm to wake him. Jazz slowly came to and looked about in wonder.

“Oh! Where am I? I… I’m grown?” He stared at his own plating in amazement for a moment. The he turned his confused blue visor to his companion. “Who… Crystalcracker is that you?”

The mech smiled at him. “My name is Prowl, and you have saved me from a terrible fate, dear one.”

“But I didn’t do anything.”

“Was it not you who threw your stabilizer at the Glitch-mouse King to distract him?” Prowl held out said stabilizer. He gently put it back on Jazz’s pede. Then he offered his servo to Jazz who took it with a shy smile. Prowl kissed the back of Jazz’s servo before helping him up off the berth. 

A muted engine rumble out from the surrounding forest and a moment later a green vehicle entered the clearing. The vehicle transformed into a pleasant looking mech whose faceplates lit up with delight upon seeing them.

“Your Highness! Oh thank Primus. We had begun to despair that you would never return.”

“Y-your Highness?!” Jazz said, shocked.

The green mech came forward and clasped Jazz’s shoulders happily. “You must be the pure spark foretold to aid the Prince in breaking the spell! I’m so glad to meet you. My name is Hound, the guardian of the Crystal Forest.”

“Hound, please.” Prowl murmured. “We’ve just arrived and he does not know of our land.”

“Oh, of course! I shall send word to the palace to tell them of your return and guide you there myself.” He walked over to one of the crystal trees and whispered to it. It seemed to shiver and then a soft sound washed through the trees around it and away.

“You’re a prince?” Jazz asked in awe.

“Yes.” Prowl answered. He then placed the Seventh Crown that he held in his servo on Jazz’s head. “And now, so are you.”

Jazz’s spark pulsed and fluttered as Prowl gave him a soft, warm gaze. 

With Hound in the lead, they walked deeper into the forest on their way to the palace. As they passed through the snowflakes began to dance in joy.

 

They crystal trees carried the news to the Land of Sweets that the Prince was finally coming home. From there it was heard by the minibot gatekeepers who excitedly ran to the palace to tell Optimus Prime, the Sweet-energon Fairy. They sang a joyous song as he summoned to the palace all the Delights the Prince and his special guest might enjoy.

One by one each group came, chattering excitedly at the news of the Prince’s return. The first to arrive were the embodiments of Hot Tungsten, followed by the lithe and exotic Mercury. Then, glittering Fluorite appeared. Sweet and salty Candy Copper Seekers came diving and sky-dancing in through the palace windows, chased by quick Lithium Marzipan femmes and delicate Polichinelles of tangy platinum. Last, but always welcome came the Crystal Fey Mirage and his garlands of Blooms. Optimus assembled everybot into rows of welcome as the Prince and Jazz arrived in the Land of Sweets.

Prowl bowed to the Sweet-energon Fairy and introduced Jazz, who almost forgot his manners, so astonished was he by the beauty and wonder of the palace. This must be what it’s like to be in one of Godsire’s inventions, he thought. As he bowed before the Sweet-energon Fairy he received a look of kindness that would warm him for all of his days. 

Optimus invited the Prince to tell the story of how he gained his freedom. Prowl gave Jazz’s servo a little squeeze and stepped forward. Using gestures along with words he recounted for the intent crowd the story of his awakening. He portrayed the fearful battle between the glitch-mice and the toy soldiers. He showed the harrowing duel between himself and the Glitch-mouse King. Then he told of Jazz’s brave act with his stabilizer that saved his life. He described the defeat of the Glitch-mouse King and the removal of the Seventh Crown, which broke the spell that had held him captive. He held out a servo to Jazz who came to him, 

“Now this crown belongs to Jazz, and I would have him treated as a prince.”

In celebration of his return and Jazz’s bravery, Optimus had a throne brought out. Prowl and Jazz were seated upon it and an astounding display of cakes and treats were brought to them. The sweet-energon Fairy then announced that in their honor the assembled Delights would dance for them.

A hush fell over the room and sounds of music started up. The Hot Tungsten suddenly appeared, lively and light-peded. They bounded and danced with fiery passion. When they finished and bowed the lights in the room dimmed and the tingling sound of digit-cymbals announced the beginning of Mercury’s flowing and enchanting dance. The Fluorite’s performance was impish and fast-paced. The next exhibition moved to the air as the Candy Copper Seekers whirled and weaved for the Prince and Jazz. The Lithium Marzipan femmes gamboled about the room, dancing and playing delicate vibro-flutes. Next the Platinum Polichinelles sprang out from hiding places and cavorted zanily with wide happy smiles.

Mirage, graceful and elegant, fluttered over his garden of Blooms and brought them to life to perform a lilting waltz. At the end of it the Blooms settled into a glittering bouquet. The great chamber where they sat grew dark.

The filigree ceiling folded back revealing the night sky scattered with stars. Jazz caught sight of the Sweet-energon Fairy standing at the edge of the room on the arm of a silver mech. He again felt that rush of kindness. Optimus inclined his helm to Prowl and Jazz.

Prowl squeezed his servo lightly. “Would you like to dance?”

Jazz’s spark was so full of happiness all he could manage was a slight nod. It was as if they were flying about the room. Jazz was swept low, nearly touching the floor, then lifted high overhead. Prowl carried him around the room through streams of moonlight. With ability he hadn’t realized he possessed Jazz stood high on the tip of one pede gliding effortlessly toward Prowl, together they whirled and swayed. 

He wished the dance could go on forever, but he again caught sight of Optimus and the Fairy looked… sad? Why?

The room seemed to be filling with sparkling mist. The walls of the palace fell away silently. Soon all he could see was Prowl. They held onto each others servos tightly. Jazz tried to speak, but no words emerged from his vocalizer. 

No! He was losing his grip! Their servos slipped apart as the mist swallowed them…

Jazz woke abruptly. He shot up from where he’d been laying on his berth. What happened? He looked down at himself. No final upgrades. Had it been a recharge flux? No. It had felt so real.

His Crystalcracker!

He tore off his covers and raced down the stairs to the living room. He looked high and low, but his beloved Crystalcracker was gone! He had to get Godsire; Wheeljack would know what to do! Jazz grabbed his new cloak and stabilizers and rushed out the door ignoring the alarmed call of his Carrier. Godsire’s house was just down the road.

He knocked desperately on the door holding back a sob. It only took a moment for Godsire to answer. His helmfins were glowing a joyful gold color.

“Come in, Jazz, come it. I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Godsire! My Crystalcracker-”

“It’s alright, Jazz, calm down. Come with me there’s somebot I want you to meet.”

Jazz pouted. He didn’t want to meet anybot right then! But he dutifully followed Wheeljack to his cozy sitting room.

“Jazz, this is my nephew, Prowl.”

Jazz stood frozen, for there sitting in one of the chairs by the merrily crackling fire was his Crystalcracker Prince. He looked younger than he had in Jazz’s flux, maybe only a little older than himself.

Prowl smiled at him. “Hello, Jazz.”

“Are you a prince?” Jazz blurted out.

Prowl’s wings went back in confusion for a moment before he smiled. “Only if you are.”

Jazz cycled his visor and then shuffled, embarrassment blushing through his field.

Wheeljack put a comforting servo on his shoulder. “What’s that you have in your servo, Jazz?”

Jazz had not even realized that he was clutching something. He opened his servo curiously to reveal a tiny golden crown in his palm.

“Well, look there! You have a crown, maybe you are a prince after all.” Wheeljack said with a twinkle in his optics. Jazz smiled softly to himself and shyly looked up at Prowl. His spark flipped when the mechling returned the smile.

“Uncle has told me so much about you. I hope we can be friends.” Prowl said.

“I would like that.” Jazz replied, field blooming with happiness. 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Still plugging away at "An Offer He Can't Refuse". I should be able to get a new chapter out at the new year... hopefully.


End file.
